Wardrobe Malfunctions and Other Fun

I think it's probably time that I go shopping for some new undergarments. I'm not one of those can't-get-enough-of-Victoria's-Secret kind of gals because well, if you're bigger than a size 2 and wear anything other than a 32D, the secret is that you're not going to look good in them.

And besides that, I found a kind of drawers that I loved - a nice string bikini type of underwear - and suddenly, they are nowhere to be found. Next were some nice boy-cut panties that I liked, so that's what I've gone with. But wouldn't you know it? I haven't seen anything similar for eons.

Now that you're up to speed on my choice of underwear...we'll moving right along here.

Point being, I don't think about needing new bras and underwear all that often. It's apparent I do, though. I walked in the front door of work the other day, and boing, there went the front clasp on my bra.

Okay, so it wasn't much of a "boing," but I suddenly became aware the my add-a-cup-size cup was making me appear as though I had boobs below my actual boobs on my ribcage. It appeared that I had a second set of boobs. Yep.

I quickly excused myself to the restroom where I snapped things back into place. It was only a temporary fix because dang if I didn't have the same problem while sitting at my desk.

I asked if we had any duct tape, and the office manager went back to the warehouse to see what she could find. She came back with a huge roll of packing tape. I took it into the bathroom and tried to work some magic.

It was short-lived. I finally got my hands on some duct tape, and I mean to tell you, I taped that clasp up so much that it wasn't going anywhere. It was only slightly embarrassing when the warehouse manager asked me why I needed it, and that he heard something about me having a wardrobe malfunction. I'm pretty sure I blushed when he asked me to explain how one's bra breaks and can be fixed with tape.

When I got home, I had to rip the bra off my body before tossing it into the trash.

My underwear, later that week on Friday, made their appearance in the varsity football team's locker room. No, I wasn't wearing them at the time.

My son is superstitious. He will do, wear and eat the same thing from Thursday morning until the game begins on Friday night under the lights. This meant he needed a particular cut-up t-shirt. It was in a load of laundry I'd taken out of the dryer on Friday morning.

He packed the shirt in his bag, didn't think too much about it, and went on his way to school. When he was changing in the locker room, he pulled out the shirt and there my drawers landed on the locker room floor.

Ugh. That same night I had the honor of going out on the track with all the other parents with their senior football playing sons. Yeah, the sons who'd probably gotten a good look at my delicates.

According to my son, it was my fault. I do the laundry after all, so I should have kept my undies from mingling with his clothes. I bought some dryer sheets with hopes of alleviating this problem in the future. Now if I could just find some undergarments to my liking, I'd be good to go.